User blog comment:Snowstripe the Fierce/The Mercenaries' War/@comment-27015000-20151104180851/@comment-26538658-20151105225601

"Hey, it was that coward of a fox who left you to die. I can't help that, mate. But I must say, your pelt would make a fine cloak." he took out his claymore, holding it diagonally across his chest and glaring at the ermine.

"So, pretty maiden, and you, prettyboy stoat, are ye with me, or not?"